


seeing the pain, seeing the pleasure.

by LLReid



Category: Bloodbound (Visual Novels)
Genre: Aftercare, As Lily Spencer would say: y’all need jesus, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bondage, Canon LGBTQ Character, Collars, Dom/sub, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Heavy BDSM, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Leashes, Romantic Soulmates, Safeword Use, Safewords, Same-Sex Marriage, Shameless Smut, Smut, Soulmates, Spanking, The amount of bdsm requests people send me is just brilliant, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 10:13:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30070674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid
Summary: Inspired by; Pillowtalk by Zayn.~~~~“Honey, I’m— Shit.” Anastasia froze in the elevator doorway at the sight of her sitting cross-legged on the couch, eyes darkened with feral lust and the diamond encrusted black leather collar being drawn seductively between her fingers.“Come,” she said firmly, her gaze leaving a burning trail over her wife’s body. “Now.”Anastasia inhaled a shuddering breath and her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip. She took only one step before Kamilah tutted and raised an eyebrow, letting her know exactly what was expected of her— and those simple gestures wound around her limbs like invisible restraints.Without a word, The Bloodkeeper sank to her knees, and began crawling along the floor to kneel at her feet.
Relationships: Kamilah Sayeed/Anastasia Sayeed, Kamilah Sayeed/Main Character (Bloodbound)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 32





	seeing the pain, seeing the pleasure.

**Author's Note:**

> Mixing some prompts for this one ✌🏻😙
> 
> Instagram Prompt: your really good at showing healthy bdsm scenes that aren’t like 50shades 👀😜 so can you do more of them please 
> 
> Instagram Prompt 2: KAMILAH TOPPING ANNIE. KINKY AS HELL. DO YOUR WORST.
> 
> Prompt: Anastasia teasing kamilah in a meeting with her accent. I’d love to see kamilah with a voice link and waiting to top the living hell out of her when she gets home.

_If you expect my stellar financial services you’re going to have to stop doing that with your accent at once. I am a red blooded woman, Annie, and there is only so much of this I can take before waltzing over there and fucking you right there on your boardroom table._ \- Sent 5:10PM.

 _well excuse me for being horny af_ \- Received 5:10PM.  
_and you know damn well id be into that so waltz on over_ \- Received 5:11PM. 

_You’re horny?? You know very well what it does to me when you stop softening your accent. I am sitting here in my boardroom, surrounded by mortals that I loathe with a burning passion, trying to focus on the information being given about Raines Corp’s vampire fertility program in order to give you an accurate estimation of how we are going to best manage the finances of the project, and all I can think about is getting you off with my mouth!!_ \- Sent 5:12PM.

 _does that really mean you want me to stop teasing you sweetheart ?_ \- Received 5:14PM.

 _Don’t you dare._ \- Sent 5:14PM.  
_I didn’t say the safeword— and you’re really laying it on thickly now, aren’t you? I’m going to get you for this when you get home._ \- Sent 5:15PM.

 _oh does that mean im gonna be punished?!?!_ \- Received 5:17PM.

 _Indeed it does, my little brat. Indeed it does._ \- Sent 5:17PM.

 _FUCK YES._ \- Received 5:18PM.

Kamilah leaned back in her chair at the head of her long boardroom table and heaved a sigh as she heard her wife’s voice over the video link connecting Ahmanet Financial and Raines Corp. Her real voice with that muddled Kazakh and British accent in all its natural glory, uninhibited by the efforts she usually went to in order to soften it. Anyone else would simply assume she’d been working so hard she was too tired to consciously make those needless adjustments... but she knew better. 

The missing out the odd article or two in her sentences.

The short i’s becoming more of an ee sound.

The h’s hardening to become something akin to g’s.

Certain words becoming more drawn out and bringing out the cut-glass British twang she’d developed in boarding school.

The distinct restructuring of her sentences to fit more with Eastern patterns of speaking.

This was all part of a very calculated attack on her already very weak self control where her wife of thirty-one years was concerned. The woman was maddening. Bloody maddening— it really was a wonder that she managed to get a damn thing done at all.

As Anastasia spoke she stared at the massive screen on the far wall of the room and tried her best to concentrate on what she was saying— however, the perfectly tailored white lab coat she was wearing over the top of her tight black dress was doing nothing to help abate the warmth pooling between her thighs. Between the accent, the lab coat, the fact Anastasia was being referred to as ‘Dr. Sayeed’ by her colleagues and the casual displays of intelligence she was demonstrating as she explained the ins and outs of her research... she was a mess. A damn mess.

 _Bloody hell, Annie. Are you trying to kill me?_ \- Sent 5:30PM.  
_Stop putting the end of your pen to your lips like that at once or I may just have a heart attack!!!_ \- Sent 5:30PM.

 _spank me_ \- Received 5:31PM.

 _I INTEND TO._ \- Sent 5:32PM.

She shifted in her seat and fiddled with her phone as the meeting wore on and Anastasia continued to torment her. Her thighs rubbing together offered little-to-no relief, and she saw that manic twinkling in her wife’s eyes every time she looked at the screen. She knew damn well what she was doing to her... and she was enjoying every moment of it.

This wasn’t the first time Ahmanet Financial had been hired to manage the finances regarding projects at Raines Corp. So she had known the moment Anastasia had offered her this contract that the vast majority of meetings between them, despite seeming perfectly professional to the other people involved, would be anything but. It had become something of a tradition between them to wind each other up beyond belief in these work settings.

It satisfied Anastasia’s inner exhibitionist whilst exciting the sadist inside her as she watched her wife get hornier and hornier without being able to do a damn thing about it.

She loved the game so much it was practically a hobby of hers.

 _You’re full naming me an awful lot. You’re well aware what your pronunciation of ‘Kamilah’ does to me, you little hellion._ \- Sent 6:00PM.

 _can’t a lady think her wife’s name is pretty without having some sort of ulterior motive? is it really so bizarre to think that i just like saying your name?_ \- Received 6:01PM.

 _You only call me Kamilah when you’re mad at me. I am onto you._ \- Sent 6:01PM.

 _if you start calling me anastasia i’m divorcing u. that would be weird as hell._ \- Received 6:03PM.

 _That would indeed be as odd as me Dr. Sayeed-ing you like those ass kissing mortals you work with. Even in this setting you are Annie._ \- Sent 6:04PM.  
_And what the hell is this mewling mortal employee of mine talking about? Are you following one word of this?_ \- Sent 6:04PM.

 _nah. i’ve never even seen this guy before. who is he? do we like him?_ \- Received 6:05PM.

 _He’s a new hire with a generic white man name I cannot recall... and no we do not like him. I witnessed him pouring Mountain Dew in a cappuccino this morning and was so horrified I considered stabbing the fool in the eyes. This generation of mortals are a danger to civilised society._ \- Sent 6:06PM.  
_Your breasts look amazing in that dress, by the way._ \- Sent 6:06PM.

 _i love the way you go straight from bitching about mortals to talking about my boobs. it’s gay as hell._ \- Received 6:07PM.

 _It’s incredibly therapeutic to imagine sticking my face in them. You have no idea how many lives have been saved by that fantasy. It calms me down considerably._ \- Sent 6:09PM.

 _you perverted dork. pay attention and stop staring at my magical lifesaving titties!!!_ \- Received 6:10PM.

 _I’m imagining smothering myself with them. Leave me be._ \- Sent 6:10PM.

Anastasia cleared her throat to keep from laughing and gave her a little wink in response. She watched as she subtly adjusted her lab coat and pushed her hair over her shoulders to reveal more of her cleavage and then strategically folded her arms beneath them in a way that plumped them up.

Besides the fact they teased one another relentlessly when the opportunity to work together rolled around, the other text message conversations that always passed between her and her wife were another thing she absolutely adored. She could vent out her frustrations to her best friend in the whole world to her heart’s content whilst keeping an ear on the conversation that passed over the video link. 

They always worked together very well because she’d taught Anastasia a lot of what she knew of the business aspect of her job. She’d also been mentored by Adrian, so she was a force to be reckoned with and could be absolutely relentless. Business was a game, after all, that was played for fantastic stakes, and you were in competition with experts. If you wanted to win, you had to learn to be a master of the game and forge strong alliances— and that was exactly what they’d done.

Many of her competitors in the financial industry would’ve killed to be given a Raines Corp contract and actually had the audacity to try and compete with her for them. Yet together she and Anastasia were a wife-wife team whose partnership had brought a number of important scientific discoveries into fruition and made a lot of money for a lot of people.

She might not have known a damn thing about the vast majority of subjects Anastasia raved about, but nobody could work with Raines Corp even half as well as she could. That was something she knew for certain.

Despite how productive their meeting was, she’d never been more thankful for the end of the work day and the beginning of her weekend to finally roll around when the meeting drew to a close just before 7PM— and she headed straight upstairs to the penthouse without a parting word to anyone, desperate to ready herself for a night of reigning in her bratty bottom.

She hydrated.

She freshened herself up in the bathroom.

She looked out all the necessary supplies.

Then she sat down on the living room couch, collar in hand, and waited on Anastasia arriving home.

It was 7:45PM before she heard the elevator beginning to rise, and her heart rate doubled in anticipation. She was going to spend hours tormenting her before she finally gave in and fucked her. They were going to blow the roof off the limits of pleasure. She was going to make her wife beg for it. She was going to claim her. She was going to tease her mercilessly. And she was going to make her come for her like she’d never come in her life.

“Honey, I’m— Shit.” Anastasia froze in the elevator doorway at the sight of her sitting cross-legged on the couch, eyes darkened with feral lust and the diamond encrusted black leather collar being drawn seductively between her fingers.

“Come,” she said firmly, her gaze leaving a burning trail over her wife’s body. “Now.”

Anastasia inhaled a shuddering breath and her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip. She took only one step before Kamilah tutted and raised an eyebrow, letting her know exactly what was expected of her— and those simple gestures wound around her limbs like invisible restraints.

Without a word, The Bloodkeeper sank to her knees, and began crawling along the floor to kneel at her feet.

She reached out to caress her cheek and drew her face in so that it was rested against the outer part of her thigh as she stroked her hair. “You were a very bad girl today,” she cooed, her fingers tightening around the silken ember strands and tugging sharply, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from Anastasia. She hummed mockingly as she rubbed at her scalp and bent down to kiss the crown of her head. “I’m going to have to teach you a lesson. I can’t have you thinking that sort of behaviour is acceptable.”

Anastasia glanced up at her with the tiniest smirk on her face, clearly very proud of herself to have riled her up this much. That prideful little smile and her adorably nuzzling her cheek against her leg were her only answers, but that didn’t matter. She already knew exactly what Anastasia was thinking. She already knew her wife felt safe and cared for, despite the faux icy demeanour: she could both see and feel all of the affection beneath the mask.

“Cat got your tongue?,” she teased, tugging on her hair again. “Hmm? You certainly had a lot to say earlier.”

Anastasia sighed wistfully. “I’m just considering how much I should soften my accent before I speak.”

“There will be none of that. You will not soften it at all,” she demanded whilst moving her hair out of the way to fasten her collar around her neck. “It is beautiful and I wish to hear it. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Kami,” Anastasia smiled. “I understand.”

She kissed her brow and then leaned back, twirling the shimmering chain leash in her hand teasingly around her fingers. “That’s my good girl— I want to hear your safeword now.”

Anastasia’s eyes widened at the sight of the leash and she practically squeaked in excitement as she regarded it. “Red. Red is my safeword.”

She leaned forwards and clipped the leash onto the front o-ring on the collar, her lips grazing her hairline as she did so. “Good girl.”

Without another word, she stood up and gave a sharp tug on the chain, gesturing for Anastasia to get to her feet. The redhead groaned at the sudden pressure on her neck and followed the command as a blush spread across her cheeks.

“Strip me and then strip yourself, slowly,” she ordered.

Anastasia did what she was asked immediately, without any bratty backchat. She didn’t miss the way she began breathing faster or the way her heart began pounding as she made a torturously slow job of ridding them both of their work clothes.

She watched her intently, her domineering presence towering over her petite frame. Her job was to be in tune with all of her wife’s wants, needs and desires. She was not worth much as a domme if she could not do that for the woman in her care. The ultimate power rested with Anastasia, despite the fact she was the one on the end of the leash. Because any control she had over her was a gift, Anastasia was the one who controlled each one of her actions. 

She wanted to please her more than anything else, and that was how she drew pleasure. It was very important to her that she managed to please her. She wanted her to be satisfied. She wanted her to be so spoiled, pampered, and cherished that she didn’t want to be anywhere but with her... because her Annie’s submission was like crack to her. Seductive and very, very addictive.

“You’re so beautiful, Kami,” Anastasia murmured as she reached behind her to unclip her bra.

That comment melted her. Her voice was rough and sensual and now she was even more bewildered by the accent. It was hard for her not to break character and start smothering her in kisses. That damn accent was her kryptonite... and it’s caress was one of the few things powerful enough to shift her from her mission. 

She cleared her throat, rallied, and spoke very firmly and clearly, “As are you, my darling.”

The moment Anastasia’s outfit was on the floor she tugged on the chain in her hand with such force she stumbled into her embrace. Faster than she could react, Kamilah’s mouth covered hers. Claiming her, marking her. Making her as her’s.

Even though she’d decided to reward her for following her command with the kiss, her mind went completely blank. All intelligent thoughts dissolved, replaced only by pleasure and the need to be claimed by this woman. To open her mouth and take and be taken completely.

“Good girl,” she growled, nipping at her bottom lip as her right hand travelled down the length of her bare back to settle on her ass. She leaned back as she began kneading it and then looked her in the eyes as she bent her head to kiss her breasts the way she’d wanted to during their meeting. “How many do you think that little performance today is worth?”

Anastasia hummed and let out a yelp as she struck her backside, giving her a taste of what was in store.

“I— uh—“

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly and leaned in to nip at her bottom lip. She brought the hand that had spanked her up to cradle the back of her head and she ran her fingers through her hair, holding her to her while their tongues explored and danced around each other, her blood heating in her veins. They were both breathless and panting in each other’s mouths when she pulled away.

“Well?,” she prodded, her thumbs brushing luxuriantly against her rosy nipples as she kneaded at her breasts. “Use your words. How many do you deserve?”

“You tell me,” Anastasia smirked, her gaze darkening. “Why are you even asking my opinion? Are you not the one who is in charge here?”

She huffed in amusement and tugged on her hair again. “Mind your attitude.”

“Or what?”

Without a word she gave a sharp push on her shoulders, lowering her to her knees at her feet. Then she began walking towards the couch, dragging her along on her leash behind her.

She sat down with a dancer’s grace and patted her thighs. “Lay down.”

Anastasia smirked at her and waited a defiant ten seconds before laying across her lap, displaying her bare ass like it was some sort of offering to the gods. And she trailed her fingertips lightly over the bumps of her spine and over the backs of her thighs, making her shiver.

“Kami,” Anastasia whimpered.

She snorted. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already saying my name like that.”

“Hurry up and—“ She cut herself off with a hiss of pain that gave way to a draw out moan as she dug her fingernails into her inner thigh. 

“You’re smart enough to know who is in charge here,” she said sternly as she brought her palm down on her backside and then bent down to kiss the red mark she left behind. “You do not call the shots. I will draw this out for as long as I desire and you are going to lay there and bear it.”

Anastasia glanced over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at her in a final act of pure petulance before laying her head down on the couch. To her, being spanked was the ultimate way to gain obedience, the ultimate form of pleasure. It was life on the high wire.

Warmth pooled between her own legs as she drank in the sight of her wife draped across her thighs, crying out for more each time she brought her hand down on her. For a spanking to be done right, it had to be steady, rhythmic, slap, slap, slap, slap, slap, moving from one area to another until both cheeks glowed with a rosy bloom that lit the charge and sent the electric messages to the rest of the restless body.

Anastasia whimpered and moaned as her hand came down across her bottom, the sting quickly followed by a prickling numbness. The pain vanished and the heat generated from those slaps sent lines of electric fire through all the tissues and nerve endings in her body, ripples of warmth that gathered in a wave of sensations, a million tiny kisses that lapped over her and almost took her to a breath-taking orgasm before she drew her hand away and took pleasure in hearing her beg to be allowed to finish.

“Your pleasure is mine to give,” she murmured as she rolled her onto her back and crawled over her, pinning her wrists above her head in a vice-like hold. “And you do not get to finish until I decide you’ve pleased me enough.”

Anastasia pouted. “You suck.”

She bent down and sunk her fangs into the side of her neck for that bratty remark, and Anastasia arched beneath her as her mouth filled with blood. It didn’t matter how much she wriggled. Or how loud she moaned or whimpered. Or how much she begged. She held her steady and littered an array of bites over the throbbing pulse on either side of her neck, grinding herself along her thigh the whole time.

“Look at me,” she ordered, leaning back to gaze at her through crimson eyes with her bloodstained lips parted in ecstasy. “Eyes on me, Annie. Always on me.” She dug her nails into her wrists as she continued moving on her thigh, feeling herself getting close.

Anastasia bit down on her bottom lip and jerked her thigh sharply upwards, eliciting a loud moan from her. “You’re so beautiful like this,” she drawled, clenching her muscles to match her movements. “I love you so much, Kami.”

That was all it took. She stared down into those big blue eyes and a haze blew through her mind. Red hot. Like a swarm of angry bees, pleasure began buzzing in her head and rippling through her body. And suddenly it was as if a dam broke. The locked door in her mind that others had tried so hard to budge simply opened at Anastasia’s words, and the pleasure, safety, and love came roaring through with vicious velocity.

Anastasia stared up at her with a smile on her face, moving her thigh as she rode through her orgasm. She was the kind of woman she had always wanted: wild, hot, horny, and a fan of her losing control. 

And it all pointed back to her, about how much she felt in control of things, with the power of her body. She relished that delicious feeling of freedom, the delirium of being naked, and her flesh being born again. It was like she was being made new.

She leaned down over her face and peppered kisses around the sweetly flushed skin as she caught her breath, pinning her so completely she couldn’t move a muscle. One of her hands moved to squeeze at her neck as she nibbled on her earlobe, and an aftershock of pleasure shot through her body as Anastasia shuddered.

She could feel her whole body trying to lay claim to her, own her in lust, and it made her feel so valuable and wanted. As she was bent over her, feeling her squirm in search of some sort of relief and hearing her whimper as she lowered her mouth to worship her breasts as she grew even more desperate, she truly felt like she was the whole world to her, and she could think of nothing else, could feel nothing else.

“Kami, please touch me,” Anastasia whined.

She playfully nipped at her breast in response. “No.”

“Kamiiiiii.”

She suckled at her nipple and let out a happy sigh as she dragged her fingernails down the sides of her ribs, making her whimper and writhe in ecstasy. “I did warn you what would happen if you didn’t stop being a brat. Did I not?”

“I need you to fuck me,” Anastasia pouted. “Please, honey.”

“I’m quite enjoying myself.”

“Kamiiiiii. Please.”

She chuckled low in her throat and did her best to ignore the pounding between her own legs as she continued her self-indulgent worship of her breasts. “No.”

Anastasia whimpered and cried out as she went back to teasing her relentlessly, painting her playground of a body with bites, scratches, and kisses... but offering her absolutely no relief.

She dripped hot candle wax onto her inner thighs and dragged ice cubes over her stomach.

She wrapped the belt she’d worn that day around her wrists to keep her still.

She made her watch as she brought herself over the edge multiple times.

The air in the living room felt thick with the feeling between them as the games wore on and she had Anastasia use her mouth on her. The heat filling the whole room: a room full of their carnal love, their red-hot desire for each other.

Hovering over her face, she clutched tightly at the strands of ginger hair splayed across the couch. Her wife’s head was busy bobbing between her parted thighs. She made low purr-like sounds between her legs and was so ravenous she could feel her teeth. Her nails bit into her thighs as she devoured her like she was the one deriving pleasure from the act, and she was so turned on by the way she lapped her up, that she came. 

Many times.

It had taken her a long time to realise that a true domme was not someone who merely revelled in the immense benefits that she reaped from the power and control that she wielded over her sub. That the best sort of domme was not just an automaton who unemotionally doled out orders and watched with amusement as her submissive performed her commands. That a domme was not a person who only relished the benefits that her status entitled her. 

Certainly all of these characteristics could and often did exist within her, especially out with the tender moments she and her wife shared. She may have been demanding and at times a dreadfully selfish woman who would burn the entire world down just to see one woman safe. She may genuinely have enjoyed and even be aroused by the power that Anastasia so willingly handed her. She may have been able to expertly control her intense emotions, issuing her thorough commands and enforcing her discipline with the same stone-faced determination she showed in the boardroom. 

But a true domme, the domme she had become with Anastasia’s submission, was so invested in her submissive that she was actually something of a slave herself. She was a slave to her love for her wife. She was a slave to the responsibility that fell on her shoulders the moment the collar was fastened around Anastasia’s neck. She was a slave to the passion and the commitment. She was a slave to her overwhelming desire to protect her beloved at all costs. She was a slave to her slave— and she made damn sure that even in these situations Anastasia knew without question that she loved her so much she'd literally lay down her life for her. 

She may have been allowed to feel like she owned her sweet Annie, but that ownership owned her.

Gradually the bratty remarks began to lessen as Anastasia’s eyes began to glaze over. Getting her to this point always did wonders for her ego. She was consumed with her body, dedicated to exploring her, and Anastasia’s desperate whining felt like she would rather die, than be without the chance to connect with her in this way.

“Tell me what you want.” She placed her mouth on her throat, kissing all the words she had once struggled to utter. She seemed to divine where she wanted a kiss to fall next, what part of her body demanded to be worshipped. “Mm? Tell me. Say exactly what you need, Annie.”

Anastasia could only whimper and stare at her desperately through her big glazed eyes, and she chuckled wickedly as she finally reached down between her legs and rubbed her palm over her. The moment she touched her a low growly noise left her throat and Anastasia’s eyes rolled back, her head lolling to the side as her body arched in pleasure.

“God, Annie,” she moaned, smirking in bemusement as her wetness coated her palm. “It appears I may have been crueller than I thought I was being.”

Anastasia arched an eyebrow and struggled to force out, “No shit, Sherlock.”

She nipped at her jaw and thrust her fingers hard against a particularly sensitive spot, eliciting a loud whimper. “Be nice to me or I’ll stop.”

“Please no,” Anastasia cried. “I’m— Kami— Can I?”

“I don’t know,” she smirked as she brushed the side of her face with her free hand. “Can you?”

“Kami,” she whimpered desperately. Undone. Delirious.

“Beg for it.”

“Please. Please let me. Kami— I— Please, I’ll do anything— I have to— Please—“

She kissed her brow and began moving her thumb in little circles around her clit. “I’m only teasing, baby. You have permission. You’ve been so good for me— you’re going to come as many times as you can, and you’re going to tell me when you’ve had enough. You’re in charge now, my love.”

Her eyes lit up as Anastasia called out her name and shuddered in her hold. This was what she’d been thinking of since the moment she’d decided to tease her earlier that evening. This was all she’d been able to think about, daydream about. She’d had her fill and it was all about her now. 

She brought her over the edge multiple times with her hands. With the thigh strategically placed between her legs. With her mouth. 

She made her whimper and moan and scream as she writhed in her hold. Driven mad by the pleasure that she was able to give her.

“Red,” Anastasia panted eventually.

She stopped immediately and nuzzled her cheek against the inside of her thigh, before turning and placing a purely self indulgent kiss over one of the faint bruises her fingers had left behind on her creamy white skin. She watched in awe as Anastasia’s chest manically rose and fell as she crawled up her body to take the belt restraining her wrists away and remove her collar.

By the time those electric blue eyes could focus on her, her heart throbbed fiercely in her temples, and her insides bubbled with emotion when she smiled and drew her into a long, lush kiss. She gazed straight into her eyes, and she knew the affection shining in them was only hers, and that sweet smile was only hers, and for this fraction of an instant, nothing else mattered in the world but them.

“You were so amazing, my love,” she murmured as she pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over their entwined bodies. They were laying together in such a tangle of limbs it was damn near impossible to discern who began and ended where. Their chests rising and falling together. Their hearts beating in a symphony of such perfect synchronicity it sounded like music to their heightened senses.

“So were you,” Anastasia said breathily. Her body melted into her larger frame and she wrapped both of her strong arms around her, coiling them around her slight shoulders and cradling her against her. “Brutal... but the best kind of brutal.”

“I did warn you what would happen if you continued to publicly taunt me,” she smirked as she pressed a kiss to her nose and tickled at the roots of her hair. “I’ve decided that accent of yours is eighth wonder of the world— it does things to me that you would not believe.”

Anastasia giggled and traced the outline of her lips with her fingertip, smiling as she sucked the finger into her mouth briefly before letting it go with a dramatic pop. “I believe it, alright.”

She rolled onto her back so that Anastasia was laying on her chest and adjusted the blanket so she was completely covered in it. Her fingers combed their way through the length of her hair with ease and she stroked it and her back, a smile forming on her lips as Anastasia’s thumb caressed her flushed cheek.

“You’re feeling good about everything that happened?,” she murmured against her hairline. 

“So good,” Anastasia confirmed with an exhausted smile. “You?”

She made a noise of agreement and kissed her brow again. “Your ass doesn’t hurt does it?”

Anastasia giggled at that and she nodded. “Of course it does but in a good way.”

She chuckled. “Well once I find the will to move I will simply have to kiss it better. I can’t have my wife walking around with a sore ass, now can I?”

“What a travesty that would be.”

They shared a laugh and Anastasia’s lips grazed the base of her neck. Outside the windows an evening rain battered against the Ahmanet skyscraper, providing the soundtrack of their afterglow. At some point they would have to order something for dinner, pour a glass of wine, perhaps even take a luxuriant bubble bath where their after-care routine would continue... but for now neither of them had any desire to move.

Anastasia’s warm breath tickled at her collarbone as she stroked the wispy little hairs that could never be controlled that framed her temple. Sleep threatened to drag her under as she breathed in the sweet scent of her shampoo and conditioner, felt the rise and fall of her chest against her bare skin with each breath she took.

“Serafine wants to throw you an Ancient Egypt themed ball for your birthday this year, by the way,” murmured Anastasia.

She scoffed. “I’d rather gouge out my eyes with my own blades.”

“That’s what I said, so I lied and said I was taking you to Budapest because your favourite restaurant is there and it was the only thing I could think to say in the moment.” She glanced up at her. “So we’re going to Budapest for your birthday now.”

“That sounds wonderful. Thank you.” She sighed happily. “I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t know exactly what sort of social gatherings I find agreeable— an ancient Egypt themed ball, what even is that? What was she going to do, have people I dislike being forced to spend time with wear period clothing and have me treated like my cousin?”

“Well she floated the idea of a pyramid shaped cake—“

“No,” she snorted. “The pyramids were built long before my time and I always thought them gaudy old things.”

“And having you make a grand entrance like that one scene in the Cleopatra movie with Elizabeth Taylor when she arrives in Rome—“

“I would literally rather stake myself.”

Anastasia giggled and she turned to press a kiss to her brow. 

“It’s just you and I going to Budapest, right?”

“Mhm. I know you don’t like your birthday and you’re always a little sadder about Lysi on that day, so I thought that eating your favourite meal and not having to socialise with anyone else would be the best plan.” Anastasia absentmindedly trailed the side of her finger down the bridge of her nose. “That way you can be sad if you need to be sad, without having to smile and be social for the sake of other people. And if you feel happy and like you can remember him and smile, you can do that too away from prying eyes— it’s just whatever you need.”

She squeezed her tightly in her embrace and as the words left her mouth, she pressed her lips to hers, giving her an intense and slow kiss. Her wife knew her so well. Loved her so well. She was always looking out for her and understanding her in a way that nobody but her brother had ever been able to— and even after thirty-one years being known so wholly still had the power to bring tears to her eyes.

“You really are an angel,” she murmured against her lips. “My angel.”

Anastasia brushed the pad of her thumb over her lower lip and smiled when she kissed it. “I’ll always be looking out for you, sweetheart. That’s what family does.”

“I love you, Annie,” she whispered.

Anastasia’s lips caressed hers once again and in her kiss she tasted her love for her. She tasted each one of the earth shattering emotions that she felt for her and her alone. She tasted the essence of that precious world she’d never imagined she could ever be apart of. All the love and care and the sense of belonging, of being enough, that she had always wanted and needed was right there in her arms, suddenly wide open to her.

“I love you, too, Kami. Always.”

~ fin.


End file.
